‘Stop! It’s okay, it’s fine, don’t worry about it, Henry does not need to do anything,’ I say, shaking my head at Penny.

‘I’ll do it,’ Jesse says, raising his hand like we’re in class. ‘I’ll be your fake boyfriend.’

‘Um,’ I say. ‘Really?’

‘Sure,’ he says, shrugging and smiling. ‘Why not?’

I’m about to say, actually, it’s a bad idea, a very very bad idea, I can think of many reasons why not, but before I can, before I can think any of this through, Tristan is in front of me.

21

21

‘Brooke!! And…Jesse!’ Tristan is looking fake-surprised, as if he hasn’t been spying on me for the last twenty minutes. He holds his arms wide for a hug. I vowed never to hug anyone again after the waiter-hug situation, but, okay, we’re doing this, we’re going to hug. Tristan is historically a good hugger. I stand up, manoeuvre around the table between us. He pulls me close, a full-body deep embrace, because it’s Tristan. Of course he does, of course he goes for a deep, meaningful hug. I bet his eyes are shut.

We pull apart.

‘I’m here with Kendra,’ Tristan says, pointing to her chatting to a small group of people. She looks over, and waves. Why is this the first thing he says? He’s letting me know he’s not available. He thinks he needs to say this up front in case I get any ideas. A ripple of anger goes through me.

‘I’m here with my housemate Harper, it’s her birthday, and this is Harper’s girlfriend, Penny, and Penny’s cousin Henry… and you know Jesse, of course.’ I falter. Am I really going to do this? Jesse stands up and walks over to us. He gives me a we’vegot-this smile.

‘Hey man,’ Jesse says to Tristan.

‘Hey. How are you?’

‘Good, good,’ Jesse says. He’s using a slightly weird voice. I don’t know if he’s getting into character for our fake relationship, or if he is just slipping into a high-school version of himself around Tristan.

‘What are you doing here?’ Tristan asks him.

‘I’m here with Brooke. We’re housemates and, um—’ Jesse says, pausing, glancing at me, a final check-in, an are-wereally-doing-this? Now we’re on the edge of it, it feels reckless, impulsive, unplanned. Not me.

But, screw it.

‘And Jesse is also my boyfriend,’ I say.

There. I’ve done it. Look at me go!

I regret it immediately, of course. How absurd. The word boyfriend spluttered out of my mouth like it was something I swallowed and then coughed up.

Tristan laughs, then stops.

‘Wait. You’re serious?’ he says.

‘Yes,’ Jesse says, moving slightly closer to me.